final cut.

「   𝘭𝘪𝘬𝘦   𝘢𝘴𝘬𝘪𝘯𝘨   𝘵𝘩𝘦   𝐊 𝐍 𝐈 𝐅 𝐄   . . . 𝘧𝘰𝘳   𝘱𝘦𝘳𝘮𝘪𝘴𝘴𝘪𝘰𝘯   𝘵𝘰   𝐁 𝐋 𝐄 𝐄 𝐃   .   」

[reapinghook]

REAPINGHOOK          .          a non-canon & headcanon based rp blog for mitsuko souma from koushun takami's battle royale , written by lili , 21+ only . rules          .          about           .          NO ONE'S GOING TO SAVE YOU  .

[reapinghook]

moving to low - activity, please have no expectations of me replying quickly to rp. i’m having a really bad bout of my chronic illness and i have to deal with calling my healthcare provider & figuring out my situation w/ work. if i don’t go to work i’m still gonna try to focus on resting, thank you for understanding 😭

[reapinghook]

you can also find me at @lashhers, as i switch between evelynn and here, but aforementioned activity status applies !

[dailyshameless]

It’s a bigger deal. FIONA GALLAGHER 3.03 ― “May I Trim Your Hedges?”

[reapinghook]

@macrodatum

[macrodatum]

"Mitsuko," Mark breathed, not even bothering to hide the concern that laced each syllable. He couldn't say that he was surprised-- the number of procedures he'd earned those first few weeks of his life was nothing compared to what they'd actually done to him-- but that didn't make him any less upset that she'd been hurt at all.

"You-- come on, there's a first-aid kit in the kitchenette."

Without waiting, Mark stood from his seat, leaving his work and his peanuts behind in favour of taking Mitsuko's wrist and leading her away.

In the after-hours, the kitchenette lights were dead. Petey was nothing if not meticulous about his schedule. Mark pushed the door open to near blackness, felt with his free hand to flip the switches on, and then guided Mitsuko to sit at the table while he reached up to open one of the cabinets.

It was only when he was sat with her, kit open at his side, that he realised he'd never done this for anyone else before. Mark was used to Petey or Carol taking care of him, or Milchick on the rare occasions he had to speak to Ms. Cobel after any punishments; as he picked up the disinfectant spray and examined it, though, something in his mind told him he'd be fine.

Maybe I've done this before up there.

Mark blinked hard, freeing himself from his own thoughts in favour of returning to the conversation. His gaze lifted from the open kit to catch Mitsuko's, and an attempt at a comforting smile came on his lips as he shrugged his shoulders. "And, uh, as far as our outies' thoughts go, I wish I had an answer for you.

"Personally I think my outie gets into situations like this all the time."

Mark held his palm out for Mitsuko's hand to land in it, and only when she acquiesced to his request did he move to spray the disinfectant over her little wounds.

"I'm sorry about the sting." He frowned. "I can't believe Milchick made you bleed and didn't do anything about it... fucking asshole."

[reapinghook]

     it was that look in mark’s eyes — it didn’t make it difficult to look at him, but that fusion of pity-upset-recognition stirred her gut uncomfortably like coffee that didn’t agree with her. convincing that feeling to settle took as long as mark leading her to the kitchenette. he was less blind than she, clearly able to intuit the room plan with enough accuracy without bumping into any walls and mitsuko held close to him with as much distance as she could manage. airily, like he held the line of string tethered to her; like a kite. against her wishes, in this space with another person — she found the traces of something like fear in fawning, even in silence.

     unlike with milchick, she accepted mark's directions easily even if her body protested sorely at sitting again. it gave her pause, a moment to sink a single breath into her lungs before her body was marionetted into reanimation:

     " what makes you say that ? " the only acknowledgment of discomfort was how her eyes flickered to the abrasions, the tips of her fingers twitching against his palm; aware of the heat and texture of his hand against hers, teeth worrying at the opening seam of her bottom lip. " like, the corporal punishment bit oooor he just comes in fucked up and you have to just deal with it ? "

     caring came naturally to mark. she wasn't sure if she was like that. mitsuko merely moseyed on where her curiosity took her and was especially taken with what little triumphs of mischief she could get on the severed floor. but she hoped that, in some way, she was capable of doing the same if she were in his position.

     mark always tried to look proper, but she could see something wild and raw hiding beneath the surface. domesticated. mitsuko just wasn't sure how she'd get a sense for it, but it didn't take too long from the moment she began sticking her nose into MDR to develop a taste for his snark or good nature. it beat organizing supplies by a long shot.

     " yeah, well. i don't imagine it's part of his job description. after what i put him through, i can't really blame him either. it might be enough to make him regret being stuck in there with me. " her smile was slow to show, clouds eventually unshrouding the moon. against her knowledge. her teeth peeked out; a rare sight, the little canine glinting in the strange, harsh lighting that enveloped the room.

     " but you didn't have to . . . you know. do all this. i would've been fine. " swallowing the dry, charred pit of her lie was easy. " you were on a roll. "

[macrodatum]

The generally soothing sound of his keys clicking was dashed all at once by a voice in the doorway, and Mark's shoulders jumped slightly as he swivelled in his seat to look.

"Jeez--" You couldn't tell he was happy to see Mitsuko, at least not with the way he sighed and shook his head from side to side. But a closer look would determine that even in the eerie glow of his monitor, Mark was smiling. "Come on. If you were gonna turn around and betray me for peanut-related offences, you would've done that ages ago."

As Mitsuko approached him, Mark took the opportunity to face his screen again, popping another peanut into his mouth and crunching it between his teeth. The moment she was by his desk, one hand held the container out wordlessly in case Mitsuko wanted some; as little as the company gave them, Petey's good influence had at least taught Mark the value of sharing.

"I'm workin' overtime today," he said, tapping at the keyboard with his middle and index. The screen veered to the right and down as the focus on his monitor shifted, and Mark shrugged. "I signed up for it-- uh, my outie signed up for it. Or, you know, I guess he checked a box saying I could do overtime if I wanted...?

"I don't know the specifics." But the specifics never really mattered, at least not when they were related to events that happened outside the building. "I'm really in the groove, though, so I thought I'd stay 'till I at least get this new one to 50%."

River God, the file was titled. Mark started it two weeks ago, and already he was ahead of Petey's progress with a file he'd been on since the beginning of the quarter. Irving gave him looks for it, but since Mark offered to give him the creamer incentives he'd earn at the fifty mark, a temporary peace was established between them.

"I'm surprised you're still here." Mark turned, giving Mitsuko his first proper look at her. "Isn't it too..." Boring this time of day, he was going to say, except seeing Mitsuko this close up had him noticing the exhaustion on her face. She was pretty as always, sure, but tired.

"...hey." His hand slipped off the keyboard entirely. "You okay?"

[reapinghook]

     she’s quick to swipe a peanut ( two, actually ) at his offering, mutely making a show out of it like a conniving fox conspiring with its kin. there were no actual breaks or lunches allowed in the aptly-named breakroom and the caloric intake she was lacking from the usual bagged lunch was showing its wear. it felt more cool in the dark and as her gaze lingered on the filter of blues and silvery numbers on mark’s face, the flashes of warmth and mirth that tinged the corners of his eyes and mouth, mitsuko wondered if this was going to be the closest thing in this place to feeling like being submerged in the ocean. or at least be able to imagine it. her bangs felt a bit stringy from the hours spent slow-baked by the projector lamp but she was growing less uncomfortably sticky.

     “ you, ” she snorted, rocking forward on the toe of her heel to lean closer to the monitor, “ are a workaholic. it's a problem, mark s. ” for as long as she knew mark, this moment was definitely was at the top of the pile of things that proved mark s. was a hard worker. the shining example of an ideal employee. plenty of others she’d encountered in her deliveries were certainly committed to their jobs, or at least half-way; some were downright fanatical, in love with the teachings of kier. she probably couldn’t stomach interaction with mark if he had been that way, but what made mark such an oddity in her eyes was that she knew that it wasn’t this corporate religion they shoved down their throats that he strove to prove himself to, or merely for the perks. it was something else. he just kept going, even if it wasn't something tangible enough for her to understand. the thought lingered its aftertaste in her mouth, like iron; strangely familiar. she swallowed it down easily and met mark with another one of those angelic smiles. it felt as easy as air but no less plasticine or eerily empty as the floor halls.

     " not any worse than usual. " she took to leaning her hip against his desk, the silken slip of her hair falling against her face like a veil before she pushed it back. " but i didn't know the procedure for the fifth-degree was going to be . . . severe. " she waggles a hand before him, like she was showing off some luxurious rock on her hand instead of split, cracked skin and red; if it weren't dark, one could easily catch bright blooming fresh. still, that smile stayed on her face even if her eyes couldn't hide its hollow from mark.

" your outie consented to you wanting to do overtime. i don't know how my outie would actually feel about this. " a question in her eyes: is this . . . normal ?

[reapinghook]

@macrodatum, 𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐞𝐫 .     /     𝘮𝘢𝘳𝘬 𝘴 !

   𝐖𝐀𝐒 𝐈𝐓 𝐏𝐑𝐈𝐃𝐄 𝐎𝐑 𝐇𝐄𝐑 𝐊𝐍𝐔𝐂𝐊𝐋𝐄𝐒 ?   ―  she wasn’t sure what stung more, tendons stuttering in a jump at her sore attempt to test dexterity. in these cold halls, nobody was around to see mitsuko flex each finger and palm as she walked at a snails pace, but one would rarely find company anywhere here besides their own designated department. milchick didn't bother to tell her what time it was. again. her petulance was punished. he bore more weight against her with his instructions, in the numbing repetition of words that bleared bright in her minds eye even if she were to close them now in favor of darkness. milchick was the hammer that wanted her nailed down. the thought that he wanted to break her in itched at the base of her skull. it was the same feeling she got when she’d fall silent on purpose, a strange calm shrouding her — watching milchick beneath her lashes, staring before she fell back into his script — but on her own direction. cadence in sing-song, her voice danced with defiance but walked in line of his command. that just seemed to piss him off more. it was what she wanted, but the fun had to get boring eventually, which was when it did actually get agonizing. it wasn’t the blood, the pain, that tickled her. she just wondered what her outie was going to think; if she would just eat up whatever lumon told her happened. and she doubted she was that dumb—

   darkness, a single square, emanated its shadows past the doorway. yeah, she wasn’t paying attention. “ fuck. ” a low, harsh note escaped her — something that was becomingly increasingly less rare, compared to her seemingly soft, docile nature that initially welcomed her into distribution & supply. maybe if she kept her mouth shut, stuck in that angelic smile that earned everyone’s favor, spoke in that gentle, melodic way that made the others so sweet on her, she could have coasted by. yet here she was. the aftermath of the breakroom was the culmination of being bored doing all that for too long, and wouldn’t mitsuko earn their forgiveness again anyway with another smile ? it seemed like their patience would never run out.

   she was almost willing to test it.

   then: her ears picked up a shuffle of something thin. pause, a crunch; distant but audible. she blinked. after a mere a foot forward into the darkness, it wasn’t that hard to spot. he wasn’t that hard to spot. “ i’m going to tell on you, ” a tease that echoed in the mostly empty space of the MDR department, but the proximity of time between now and however long she was in there loomed over mitsuko enough that she had to reaffirm to herself that, for him, his sordid affair with the snack machine wasn’t going to be very serious. walking toward mark s., inky hair swinging messily and brow arched in a way that attempted to look judgmental, mitsuko studied how the faded neon glow of the computer fuzzed over him without obscuring his features completely. that may have been a 4 between his left eye and nose, a 6 at the cleft of his lip. overtime. really ? she glanced down.

   “ you’re a peanut thief. or a peanut hoarder. i don’t know which is worse. ” she could forget the sting, with this. “ isn’t it past five ? ”

[sridevi]

House ( ハウス ) || dir. Nobuhiko Obayashi, (1977) 

[knightofleo]

Visit Original Link

Akira Yamaoka | Never Forgive Me, Never Forget Me from Silent Hill 3

[dvoyd]

“My heart says, “handle with care” but my mind asks, “do you deserve it?””

— thoughts of a stray i | m.a.w

[undenial]

⠀⠀AND THE REASON I AM LIVING IS ONLY BECAUSE I AM LOOKING FOR WHAT I HAVE LOST. ⸻ james sunderland, of konami's silent hill 2. selective, private, 21+. by cole. ©

[reapinghook]

patch, sender patches up receiver's wounds. / from tide :^)

𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬 𝐬𝐩𝐞𝐚𝐤 𝐥𝐨𝐮𝐝𝐞𝐫 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐧 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝𝐬.     /     𝘢𝘤𝘤𝘦𝘱𝘵𝘪𝘯𝘨 !

   𝐖𝐈𝐓𝐇 𝐃𝐔𝐋𝐋 𝐄𝐘𝐄𝐒   ―  she sees that dimpling hollow at his cheek, where teeth meet mouth-flesh, and the proximity between them makes the air heady, thick, with his cologne-sweat of amber and brine, her blood, smoke in her hair. her free hand swats at his golden face, between the eyes, a nail flicking at the dancing scar. in this light, it's thin and silvery like thread, like fishing wire.

     " you'll get wrinkles. botox isn't cheap in america. "

   low and playful, her voice rises and falls in sing-song hum. typical, as she is wont to do when she plays the lamb, but it's lacking the artificial sweetener. no need to play coy for this moment, it's not that kind of scene, even if she's leaking ( blood, mind you ) and resting atop the counter, ripped pantyhose grimy and knees bruised. nobody wants to play with poor mitsu. too rough.

   he handles her so gently by comparison, it bothers her; expertly quelling the familiar stinging with the soothing slide of his thumb against where he's wrapped the gash on the meat of her bicep. hardly any bloom against the white cloth. she could make it hard for him, could dig in, make him start all over again. her smile is a sunless crescent, her cheeks the moon   ―  like she's in the shade of his glow where tide is golden.

   " didn't have to do that for lil' ol' me . . . so, what, do i owe you ? "

[b1gtimerush]

actions speak louder than words non - verbal / action prompts from yours truly. (add a "swap" to swap the sender/receiver in the prompt (or just do it manually).)

back, sender gives receiver a back hug.

beckon, sender beckons receiver closer with a finger.

blood, sender cleans blood off of receiver.

book, sender helps receiver get a book from a higher part of the shelf.

care, sender takes care of receiver when they're sick.

catch, sender catches receiver by the waist after they bump into each other.

choke, sender saves receiver from choking by giving them the heimlich.

cold, sender places their jacket over receiver's shoulders.

cry, sender wipes tears off receiver's face with their thumbs.

dance, sender sticks a hand out to receiver and invites them to dance.

dip, sender skinny dips in front of receiver and invites them to join.

dog, sender's dog pulls them in receiver's direction.

drive, sender drives receiver somewhere in their car.

drag, sender drags receiver into a room and closes the door behind them.

draw, sender draws receiver like one of their french girls.

face, sender turns receiver's face towards them.

flower, sender gives receiver a flower.

footsie, sender initiates footsie with receiver under the table.

forehead, sender presses their forehead against receiver's.

grab, sender grabs receiver's wrist to stop them from leaving.

jump, sender jumps onto receiver's back.

kiss, sender kisses receiver.

link, sender links arms with receiver while walking.

massage, sender offers receiver a massage.

patch, sender patches up receiver's wounds.

piano, sender teaches receiver how to play the piano.

pin, sender pins receiver's hands behind their back.

pluck, sender plucks something out of receiver's hair.

press, sender presses receiver against a wall.

propose, sender proposes to receiver.

quiet, sender gestures for receiver to be quiet.

rest, sender rests their head on receiver's shoulder.

serenade, sender serenades receiver with a song.

sign, sender walks into a sign and receiver sees.

size, sender measures the size of their hand against receiver's.

shoes, sender removes receiver's shoes for them.

sun, sender rubs sunblock onto receiver's back.

tattoo, sender gives receiver a tattoo.

tie, sender helps tie receiver's tie.

tuck, sender tucks receiver's hair behind their ear.

umbrella, sender lets receiver under their umbrella.

warning, sender presses a knife against receiver's neck as a warning.

zip, sender needs receiver's help to zip up the back of their dress.

[reapinghook]

moving to low - activity, please have no expectations of me replying quickly to rp. i’m having a really bad bout of my chronic illness and i have to deal with calling my healthcare provider & figuring out my situation w/ work. if i don’t go to work i’m still gonna try to focus on resting, thank you for understanding 😭

[reapinghook]

you can also find me at @lashhers, as i switch between evelynn and here, but aforementioned activity status applies !

[sun-death]

“Do you see how easy it is for me to ask to be regarded as low and dirty? To ask to be spat upon? This isn’t … the sluttishness … but the language of a woman who thinks: it’s a role. I’ve always thought for myself. I’m a woman who’s alone, outside the accepted. Outside the Law, which is language. This is the only role that allows me to be as intelligent as I am and to avoid persecution.”

— Kathy Acker, My Mother: Demonology

[ktrkradio]

Visit Original Link

[questintheskies]

Kanna Hashimoto for Angel Heart

[reapinghook]

𝙸 𝚄𝙿𝙳𝙰𝚃𝙴𝙳 𝙼𝚈 𝚁𝚄𝙻𝙴𝚂 a bit, if moots may be interested in reading up. with those changes made, just a reminder that i am NOT interested in writing smut with mitsuko. if she has any relationship with characters that are beyond platonic or enemies, whether romantic or just messing around, whether it's confirmed between us that they've had sex at all or not, that's all dandy but i'm not comfortable with writing anything explicitly and anything more than some heavy making out is just going to fade to black. i'd prefer to leave these things alone to implication.

it's just part of her nature and character to flirt ( even when completely inappropriate to ) and to slip into the façade of being something palatable, something she suspects the other person desires, even without completely realizing it. it's part of her character too, unfortunately, for her to assume that it's necessary for her to act like this to protect herself before the other person hurts her, that it's better to offer herself as a shiny distraction so they don't actually get close. i hope others wouldn't get the impression i'm trying to force a ship, that i'm leading them on, or putting them in a situation they don't want because i'm really, really wanting for all sorts of dynamics !

i look forward to one day writing a proper post about her cycles of hypersexuality and hyposexuality, and her sex + touch-aversion ( which are entirely separate from her using her body and physical appearance in any way to draw people in ) but i'd at least like to lay out the official mun announcement. ♡